


Untitled Chef AU

by GreenArchitect



Category: Inception (2010)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-24
Updated: 2017-07-30
Packaged: 2018-12-06 09:40:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,816
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11597979
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GreenArchitect/pseuds/GreenArchitect
Summary: Prompt! How about a little age difference A/E, with one of them finding out just how much younger the other is the night AFTER they did the nasty? Doesn't have to be an obscene age difference but juuuust enough. :D





	1. Chapter 1

“I’m sorry, Arthur. You’re a great chef and you’ve got a brilliant mind for details-”

 

“But what? I’m too good?” 

 

“No, I just think you’d be better utilized as the Sous Chef. You know a kitchen is only as good as it’s 2nd in command.” 

 

“Cut the crap, Yates. What is it really?” Yates sighed and scrubbed his face. 

 

“ 5 new restaurants have opened up in the last few months and- well- We need to be able to compete with all of them-“ 

 

“And you don’t think I can do that?” 

 

“No, it’s not that. It’s that you’re style is- well it’s too careful and controlled. We need new and innovative. Look it’s not gonna be that bad. You’ll see. This guy’s got some really wild ideas. The kind of stuff that’ll give us something that noone else has in their restaurants around here. Think of it like this: You could probably learn to loosen up and find more of your own creative side.“ 

 

“Don’t you dare." 

_____________________________________________________________________

Arthur was tipsy by the time he stumbled into the bar. He’d started drinking at home but decided drinking alone was even more pathetic than still being sous chef at 38. Like there was nothing to be said for consistency of classic dishes done well? He huffed again and ordered a beer which he stared at morosely as he tried to get himself together. The new Executive Chef was not just new to the neighborhood either. He appeared to be relatively new to the culinary world in general. He couldn’t even find any photos actually; just photos of his dishes which, Arthur begrudgingly had to to admit, were stunning to look at and judging from the reviews, no less than inspired. Oh and the name Eames. But still that should’ve been his job! He’d been Sous Chef for 5 years and he’d done extremely well and even introduce several new processes to make the restaurant more efficient. 

 

“Glaring at it won’t fill it again, darling.” A smooth, accented voice cut through Arthur’s thoughts and made his head snap up. “Who pissed in your cheerio’s then?” When he didn’t respond, the stranger continued with easily the most crooked but charming grin that Arthur had ever seen. 

 

“Noone.” Arthur answered more shortly than he’d intended. “Sorry.” he cleared his throat and the handsome stranger waved it off good-naturedly and settled on the stool next to Arthur’s. 

 

“Don’t be. You’ve clearly had a horrible day. May I make a suggestion? Perhaps a more interesting mix to drown your sorrows in?” Arthur thought he just wanted to be alone in the crowded bar but honestly, the stranger had been so engaging and the mischief in his eyes drew him in. 

 

“Alright.” He relented warily but that did nothing to dampen the stranger’s mood. 

 

“Fantastic! Barkeep! My new friend here will have one of these.” He held up a violently blue colored drink before turning back to Arthur who was looking at him even more warily. “Oh don’t judge me, darling. I promise it tastes even better than it looks.” And then the man winked! Arthur couldn’t remember the last time he’d been winked at or charmed by such a juvenile move. And yet-it worked. 

 

“Who are you?” Arthur asked bluntly, purely out of curiousity. 

 

“Charles. And you are? Other than gorgeously grumpy?” Charles leaned against the bar and smiled lazily. 

 

“Arthur.” 

 

“Arthur.” The way Charles seemed to roll his name in his mouth, tasting it, made Arthur swallow thickly. “Pleasure to meet you. Ah- here’s to less shitty days!” Charles held his glass aloft as Arthur was served his. 

 

Not wanting to be rude, Arthur lifted his glass slightly and drank. “This is-” it was incredible and the word didn’t seem to fully capture all the flavors going on. “It’s great!” He looked at the drink as if he could decipher the ingredients by sight while the othe just chuckled. 

 

“Glad you like it.” The Englishman practically purred and Arthur decided that he didn’t want to go home alone.  
——————————————————————————————-

"Top or Bottom?“ Arthur practically demanded in between hungry kisses as he crowded Charles in the hallway leading to his bedroom. They’d spent less than an hour drinking before Charles suggested a change in venue with a wicked glint in his eyes that just had to be answered. 

 

"What no foreplay?” Charles huffed a laugh but relented when he was treated to a particularly icy stare. “I’m versatile.” Luckily for him the brunette seemed pleased and to be honest Arthur was too far gone to let it cool anything. 

 

“Good. Get naked.” Arthur started on his own clothes, tossing them into the hamper before setting on Charles’. 

 

“Too slow for you?” The Cheshire Cat smile normally would have been annoying but somehow Charles seemed to make it rather charming. But not completely. 

 

“Way too slow.” He looked at him pointedly as he tugged his shirt off and sent his pants and boxers flying too, after he pushed him onto the bed. The other man seemed to not mind his aggressive maneuvers and for all his bulk, fell back on to the bed gracefully and practically posed. It was much appreciated but Arthur was tired of looking and needed the release of a good anonymous fuck with a gorgeous stranger. 

 

“Be gentle with me?” Charles smirked up at him even as he grabbed a pillow and stuffed it under his hips. Arthur rolled his eyes and grabbed the lube, dribbling a bit on his fingers. Despite his reaction to Charles’ dig, Arthur was gentle. Even going as far as letting the lube warm before he even touched the other man. It was one of those details that Yates praised him for- Don’t think about work! Just focus on the great fuck you’re about to have. He scolded himself mentally and refocused. 

 

“Where’d you go?” Arthur looked down at the man’s change in tone as he stared back up at him, genuine concern in his eyes. Arthur huffed a laugh and shook his head. This one was more observant than most. 

 

“Just hoping those thigh muscles aren’t just for show.” Eames grinned delightedly, apparently satisfied with the lie and Arthur was grateful. 

 

“Well then there’s only one way to find out.”  
_______________________________________________________________________

 

The first round left Arthur loose limbed and sweat soaked but he was still too keyed up and Charles looked too put together. So after a smoke and a round of more hungry kisses, the two were at it again, this time with Charles rocking into Arthur. Arthur got lost in the weight of the other man and the heat of their bodies coming together hard enough to make the bed frame shudder.  
In the morning, he was grateful to wake up to a note and a fresh pot of coffee. Charles had even left his number so there was a promise of another performance lifted Arthurs mood on what was going to prove to be a very trying day.  
_____________________________ ________________________________________

“I’m so glad you’re here early. Eames is here already and he’s itching to meet you and go over the menu and your technique.” Yates wes practically vibrating with nerves and excitement. That soured Arthur’s mood more that he had liked.

 

“What, is he ready to change the menu already? He hasn’t even seen how people react to the food.” Arthur scowled as he entered the kitchen ready to dislike the new chef immediately but when he saw him he nearly walked right back out. 

 

“Arthur?” Charles was standing at a prep table in the most absurd looking chef jacket. It was royal blue, which would have been nice against his tanned skin but it was lined with an obnoxious white and pale orange paisley print on the inside with matching orange piping along the edges. 

 

“What the hell are you wearing?” Arthur blurted out as he looked on in disbelief. This clearly amused Charles as he let out a loud laugh as he closed the distance to shake his hand. 

 

“Like it? I could get you one if you’d like. I know a lovely tailor.” He grinned brightly and Arthur didn’t miss the appreciative look he was receiving. 

 

“You two know each other?” Yates look from Eames to Arthur in confusion as they both answered. 

 

“No.“ 

 

“Yes. Wha- Arthur why would you lie when we had such a lovely evening. You did-“ Before Eames could finish Arthur was dragging him away from Yates and into the pantry. "Arthur ,as much as I’d love a third round I don’t think now is the time.” 

 

“Did you know who I was before you slept with me?” Arthur hissed. 

 

“Well, in my defense, I was just as drunk as you were and honestly how could I pass up a fine masterpiece such as yourself. And on my first night in the States. Quite frankly I took it as a sign, a good omen, if you will.” Eames shrugged good-naturedly. “And I didn’t really figure it out until /after/ we shagged so you really can’t be all that mad and even then I just knew you were a chef. I actually had to google you. It's a small town but not that small, darling.“ 

 

“I’m not a omen! I’m your sous chef!” 

 

“And?“ 

 

“And what do you mean and?” Arthur looked like he was about to have a stroke. 

 

“So what? We enjoyed each other. I’ve got the sore arse and you’ve got the wicked scratches down your back to prove it. Now imagine what we could do in the kitchen together.” There was that wild, inviting glint that had made Arthur want to give in to the madness before but now he just wanted to punch the man for being so flippantly unprofessional. They were sober and at work for fucksakes! 

 

“Oh, Arthur. I realize the age difference might be a bit new but it’s not like I’m that much older than you-” 

 

“Excuse me?” 

 

“Yeah, you’re what? 23? I’m only 28. Not much, right?” Arthur went pale. 

“What?” He was torn between horror and flattered. 

 

“I’m 38 you idiot!” Eames looked surprised but he seemed more delighted which made Arthur feel like he was going a bit crazy. 

 

“Alright, so I’m the younger one. Is that a problem for you?” He grinned and wiggled his eyebrows suggestively. 

 

“Yes! Along with the fact that you’re my executive chef!“ 

 

“Cooking and sex are very closely related, you know. Like I said, I think it would translate well in the kitchen. I once had a lover who I owned a little a kebab shop with in Uni before I decided to try my fortune in the kitchen. It was brilliant. And now I know the difference between a chiffonade and a brunoise. /And/ I’m told you aren’t a slouch yourself. So imagine it. Just for a moment.” Eames’ confidence was as dizzying as it was nearly convincing. 

 

“We-well this isn’t some kebab shop! And you’re younger than I’d like.” 

 

“You’re cute when you get all flustered and angry. Show me the menu, yeah? I’d like to see what the soul of the restaurant is before we start.” The fact that Eames was completely unruffled by any of it just made Arthur want to scream. 

 

“This just can’t work!“ 

 

“Well it has to because you’re probably too stubborn to quit and I’m not going to.” Eames’ smiled hardened a bit as he crossed his thick arms, the picture of stubbornness. “If you don’t want to ever sleep with me again I won’t even ask but I am convinced that this can work amazingly.” Arthur could only grit his teeth and scowl. This is what happens when you use the wrong head. 

 

“Well you’re right about one thing. I’m not leaving before you.” 

 

“Brilliant. Now show me how you work, will you darling?” He grinned and Arthur sighed heavily as he stormed off to get his apron.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The comments have been lovely! Thank you so much!

“All I’m saying is our regulars aren’t used to violently colored food.” Arthur felt a migraine coming on as he sat back in his chair. He used to love reworking the menu when they were still looking for a new Executive Chef but now each meeting was just downright painful more often than not. He almost missed Nash and that was saying something.

“What better way to introduce them to it than with a nice squid ink paella!” Eames had that stupid grin on his face again. The one that made Arthur want to throw a meat mallet at.

“It’s black. It looks like something that we got from the mop bucket!"

“I think you’re not giving the people much credit. Maybe they want something different from what /everybody/ else is serving around here. Besides this is just a special. A test if you will.” Eames reminded. “And I’d like to add that I’ve spent a good month doing things your way as a good faith gesture. Don't you think it would only be right that you did the same?" Arthur wanted to scream but he wasn't about to let Eames make him look unreasonable. He wasn’t completely certain that, if push came to shove, Yates would choose him over Eames.

"Fine." Arthur gritted his teeth and gave Yates a murderous look for the thousandth time. "But I'll also be tweaking things just as you did." He added rather curtly.

“Oh, I would be disappointed if you didn't, Arthur." Eanes smiled graciously and went off to prepare the demo for the line cooks, leaving Arthur to stew. He wasn't going to sabatogue him; he wasn't that kind of man and it was thoroughly unwarranted. The tweaks Eanes had made were strange but also helpful and Arthur couldn't argue with the fact that it was bringing in new customers via word of mouth. And aside from when they had to collaborate, Eames was intriguing to watch in the kitchen. Unlike Nash, Eames preferred to have music playing and it wasn’t what Arthur had expected. In fact it never was since the genre changed daily depending on what the chef was working on. When they did a remix of the classic meatballs and spaghetti he had Pavrotti and Boccelli playing but for the Seafood Boil he played something he called Zydeco music, something that reminded Arthur of Mardi Gras.

"So what's it like having a archnemesis in the kitchen?" Ariadne joined Arthur out back for a smoke break after a particularly busy dinner service.

"He's not my archnemesis." Arthur gave her a seemingly unbothered look but the bartender snorted.

"Yeah well the line cooks and the wait staff are placing bets on whether you two are gonna fall in bed or murder eachother. Murder is currently winning." Ariadne chuckled and sat on a milk crate while Arthur kicked at a rock in the alley. "Then there's the bet of who's gonna throw the first punch. You're winning that one but I say it'll be a knife. You seem like a knife guy."

"Oh come on! That's absurd." Arthur rolled his eyes. "A knife would be too quick. I'd rather lock him in the walk in freezer."

"Oh that's cruel!" Ariadne doubled over laughing in surprise. "To be honest I think he'd rather take you home."

Arthur huffed and turned away, trying not to remember how they met. "I doubt that. We argue all the time and progress is slow."

"Yeah but look at what you two are coming up with as a result. Yates was right to bring him in but I don't think he realizes how brilliant you two are together. Fighting aside, ofcourse."

"We barely get coherent specials out and the new menu looks like Frankenstein's monster!" Arthur sank his hands into his hair in frustration.

"Yeah but when you two get it right, you get it perfect. People are still talking about that vodka battered fish and chips special and the pig candy milkshake with the toasted almond but and the berries-actually I could for both now." Arthur rolled his eyes but said nothing. The reviews had been glowing that week that for whatever reason the two of them were more agreeable than usual. “You know I’m right. Maybe you should try some hate sex? You look like you need to unwind anyway."

“Excuse me?” Arthur scoffed though he was more annoyed with himself for being interested than at her for suggesting it. “I’m not sleeping with my executive chef. It’s not professional."

“Well he doesn’t actually treat you like you’re just a sous chef. Not like Nash atleast. Eames asks for your input- I know he does because I can see your influence all over the specials. You tone him down and I think he values that.” Arthur snorted but Ariadne stood her ground. “You know I’m right, Artie."

“Don’t call me that.” Arthur muttered and threw his cigarette on the ground, snuffing it out with his shoe.


End file.
